Olivia nodded and listened intently.
“Crawford, the fella, he said he knew I was there to kill them. Puzzled me, y’know? They didn’t try to fight me. There was no aggression. They told me that they were bloodmates, and as a result, both of ’em had turned into daywalkers. They said that they knew the czar in the southeastern territory put a contract out on them because he didn’t want word getting out about daywalking.”
“Who was the czar down there then?”
“Christian Edwards, but he’s dead now.” She tossed the lighter on the desk. “Guy was old as dirt and took a walk in the sun one day. I guess eternity is a bit too long for some. Anyway, they said the Presidium made up the story about the two creating rogues so that they’d have an excuse to put them down.”
“Why would the Presidium want to kill vamps that can daywalk?”
“Are you serious?” Millicent scoffed loudly. “Vamps that could daywalk would have all the power and easily overthrow the Presidium government if they wanted. All us nightwalkers would be exposed during the day and vulnerable. Hell, we’d be perceived as weaker than daywalkers, and you know what they say. It’s all about perception.”
Olivia nodded. It was true. If daywalkers were allowed to exist, then the czars, senators, and even the emperor would be lower on the proverbial food chain. The only reason they hadn’t killed Pete was because he was a liaison to the Amoveo, the shapeshifting clans his mate was from. If the Presidium killed him, then it would cause a war with the shifters.
“So, what happened?”
“Well, the sun was rising, so I told them to prove it.” She waved her arm. “Go walk in the sun, and prove it. Hey, I thought they were full of shit, and if they didn’t do it, then I’d dust ’em, or they’d go out and burn in the sun. I figured I’d get ’em either way.”
Olivia’s eyes widened, like a child hanging on the edge of a bedtime story. “They didn’t fry, did they?”
“Nope.” Millicent folded her hands in her lap. “I hung back in the darkest corner of the front hall and watched as the two walked hand in hand into the sun. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. Anyway, they just stood there, fangs bared, bathing in the sun like they were on a tropical holiday, and then they flew off.” She dropped her feet, rose from her chair, and started shutting down her equipment. “I never saw them again. It was the only time I’ve ever lied to a czar. I told him they were gone before I got there, and the trail was cold.”
“Unbelievable,” Olivia whispered. “How did the two of them figure out that they were bloodmates? How did they even find each other?”
“Not sure.” Millicent snagged another cigarette. “I’ve heard there’s some kind of imprinting that takes place during a blood exchange, and another rumor mentioned something about dream connections. Hell, I have no idea. Maybe it’s both, or maybe it depends on the vamps.”
“Dreams?” Olivia’s eyes flicked to Millicent’s, and her body stilled. “But—but vampires don’t dream.”
“No,” she said, hitting one last button, while staring intently at Olivia. “None do.” A smile cracked her wrinkled face. “At least, none that I know of. Why the sudden interest in bloodmates?”
“No reason.” Olivia shrugged and rose swiftly from her chair. “Thanks for the bedtime story. I always liked a good fairy tale, but I should get going. I’ve taken up enough of your time, and I’m sure we could both use some sleep.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Millicent made a face and shook her head. “Something tells me that your little blond progeny isn’t the only one playing with fire.” Millicent flew across the room, grabbed Olivia’s bicep, and pulled her close, dropping her voice to a barely audible level. “Do us both a favor, and don’t go asking anyone else about the bloodmate legend. Some legends are best left as that and nothing more. I’ve always liked you, and I’d hate to see you end up a pile of dust because you go stirring up trouble.”
Olivia said nothing but nodded her understanding and left the room before Millicent could say anything else. She had more questions, a hell of a lot more, but she didn’t want to drag her old friend any further into this whole mess.
As she breached the Presidium’s barriers and entered the sewer tunnels, all she could think about was getting back to her apartment and falling into the arms of sleep. Something told her that Doug would be waiting there to catch her.
* * *
The streets were empty, and the early morning sunlight shone brightly over the tall steel and glass buildings, making them shimmer like towers of diamonds. Olivia smiled. She loved it when she had a dream with sunlight. It allowed her to be a daywalker, even if only in a dream.
After what felt like hours, she found Doug walking down the middle of Fifth Avenue, marveling at the peace and quiet that blanketed the usually loud city street. There was not a soul to be seen or heard, and it seemed as though everyone on earth had vanished, leaving just the two of them. The only sound she heard was the soothing beat of his heart as it called her to him.
She sat on top of the Saks Fifth Avenue building and enjoyed watching him as he wandered through the dreamscape. His muscular, broad-shouldered body was impressive amid the towering buildings. His blond hair seemed blonder here, and the white T-shirt clung to the expanse of his back with torturous perfection. The jeans fit him in a way that only a great pair of old blue jeans can fit a man, curving around that apple-like ass and skimming down strong legs.
That was another difference between who he was now and the boy he had been before. His body had filled out into that of a man, opposed to a young man still raw and not fully developed. Not anymore.
He had remarkable strength in the dream realm and seemed far more cognizant of where he was than most humans would be. Olivia cursed. She should have realized sooner that these dreams were more than dreams. No ghost or mere memory of her lover could create the frequency and intensity of the dreams that they shared over the past decade. There had to be a corporeal connection, and besides, since most vampires didn’t dream, that in itself should have been a dead giveaway.
A relationship between a human and a vamp was next to impossible—not to mention against Presidium law. So what now? If he was her bloodmate, she would have to turn him, and she had zero plans to do that.
“I know you’re here,” he shouted. “I can feel you, and I swear I can still taste you.”
Holy shit. Olivia gaped at him in utter surprise. He’d never spoken to her in the dreamscape or seemed so aware of what was happening. Then again, neither had she. She watched him stride confidently down the street and knew exactly when things had changed.
That kiss.
It had to be the kiss and that brief taste of his blood. That physical contact had somehow intensified their connection—cemented it somehow. What had Millicent said? Blood imprinting. When she tasted his blood, did she imprint on him? Perhaps when the floodgates had opened for her, they opened for him too, and allowed deeper access to each other’s memories and feelings.
Feelings? All she could think about was feeling him. She wanted to feel him again. Touch him. Taste him.
She had a hard enough time getting him out of her head before that kiss, and now it was even worse. Olivia always absorbed blood memories from live feed, but this was far more intense, as if she’d absorbed him and the two of them were now connected. Sounded like blood imprinting. Son of a bitch. She wished like hell there was someone she could ask about all this crap.
The czar and the rest of the Presidium came to mind, and any joy she felt immediately got squashed. It was bad enough her progeny was playing with humans and making messes. What the hell would they say if they knew she was dallying with a human who was her likely bloodmate? Nothing good, that was for shit sure.
The old phrase what-they-don’t-know-can’t-hurt-them came to mind, and her smile returned. Dreams weren’t real, right? So it wasn’t as if she was breaking any Presidium laws by dreaming. At least that’s what she told herself as she flew to street level and landed silent
ly about a block behind him.
She walked toward him, and the distinct sound of her high heels clicking on pavement shattered the silence. Doug held his ground as she moved. Seconds later, she slipped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder as her hands spanned the tensed muscles of his abs, while she pressed her body against his.
“Miss me, lover?” she whispered into his ear. “I can’t stop thinking about touching you.”
Her hands slipped lower to unfasten the fly of his jeans, but Doug grabbed her wrists, pulled her around so that she was in front of him with her back against his chest. She had worn a long black nightgown made of silk and lace that covered hardly anything. Leaving something to the imagination was always more intriguing than letting it all hang out.
“I want to see you,” he said between kisses on her cheek. “I need to know if you’re real, or if I’m making it all up, like that kiss in the alley.” His erection pressed against her lower back as his hands brushed down her bare arms. “Was that you, Olivia? Was it another dream or a hallucination from hitting my head?”
He didn’t know what was real and what was imaginary and probably felt like he was going insane. Olivia wanted to tell him, but where would she begin? How could she explain something she was still trying to understand?
Doug licked the hypersensitive skin along her neck as he murmured, “Even if it is all just dreams, I don’t care. It feels pretty fucking real.”
He gripped her shoulders and nuzzled her curly red hair off her neck. She arched back, lifted her hands over her head, and threaded her fingers through his short hair, bathing in the feel of his masculine hands as they massaged her breasts. A lusty moan escaped her lips as Doug trailed hot kisses along her neck, and he pinched her nipples as they peaked in response. She pressed herself further into his grasp, desperate to get closer, while he nibbled on the exposed skin.
“I feel like I’ve been looking for you forever—my whole life,” he murmured. “Every time you get closer, but no matter how much I get, it isn’t enough. I want more. I want it all.”
His hands wandered to her waist and rested on the gentle curve of her hips. She pressed back and ground against him, which elicited a moan of pleasure as his lips pressed against the crook of her neck.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Olivia spun in his arms, grabbed his face with both hands, and whispered against his lips, “Take it.”
He captured her mouth with his greedily, and she opened for him, letting him plunder. Devouring her as though she might vanish from his embrace at any moment, he scooped her up and carried her toward the abandoned taxi parked at the curb. Olivia kicked off her stilettos, wrapped her arms around his neck, and deepened the kiss—licking and nipping at his firm, warm lips—all the while wishing it were more than a dream.
He sat her down on the hood of the cab and stood between her legs, which she promptly wrapped around his waist, tugging him hard against her. Heat pressed enticingly against heat. Doug cradled her head in his hands and suckled on her lower lip before breaking the kiss. He rested his forehead on hers and brushed his thumb along the skin of her cheek as her hands rested on his ass.
He pulled back abruptly and lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the face, and when their eyes met, all the breath rushed from his lungs. Familiar turquoise eyes stared at her beneath a furrowed brow, and she watched as the pieces came together.
“It’s you,” he said under his breath. “I’m not crazy, am I, Olivia? The second I laid eyes on you tonight outside the club, I knew you were mine. I’ve dreamt of you since I can remember, but I never thought you could be real.” He moved closer, brushing his lips along the corner of her mouth. “And then, there you were on a New York City sidewalk in living color.”
She studied his face, and her fingers trailed along the strong line of his jaw. The sun in the dreamscape bathed them in a golden glow and made her recall their stolen kiss in the alley. She had been weakened, but not burned, by the light of early dawn; his blood gave her life, making her heart beat for the first time in centuries, and even some of their memories were the same… all the evidence was right in front of her.
His blood. Just one small taste of his blood. Staring into those painfully beautiful blue eyes, the impossible became reality, and Olivia knew there was no mistaking it now. No pretending. She could have kept up the dream trysts and made love to him again in this plane, God knows she wanted to, but how could she do that knowing what she knew?
How could she allow this to continue? It would only be torturous for both of them. She had to end it, make him think it was nothing more than a dream, and never come to him again. She was vampire. He was human. She had no right to play with his new life and drag him into the darkness. She would not doom him to eternal darkness when he had a promising human life ahead.
She stared back, praying her eyes did not betray her sadness. Olivia pressed his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes. She was weak. She wanted to cuddle up against his chest, let him hold her until sundown, turn him into an immortal, and keep him with her forever. But that would be a selfish, shitty thing to do.
He deserved a real life. A human life. A wife. Children.
All she could bring him was death and blood.
“I’m not who or what you think I am,” she said quietly.
Before he could protest, her eyes flicked open, and sadness was replaced with the cold detachment she learned to master as a sentry. Olivia put both hands on his chest and shoved him away with more force than she had ever shown him. She watched as he stumbled backward but managed to keep his balance. The look of confusion on his face broke her withered, beef jerky excuse of a heart.
Barefoot, she hopped onto the hood of the cab in one fluid motion, her red hair flowing over her shoulders as the sun set with time-lapse speed. The long black negligee clung to her feminine curves, and she knew her nipples poked through the fabric, her body cruelly contradicting her words.
“It’s just a dream, Detective Paxton,” she said in a shaky voice. She never attempted to glamour a human in a dreamscape, but she had to give it a try. If it worked, he would forget and move on with his life without her. Olivia steeled her resolve and kept her eyes locked with Doug’s, dropping her voice to the low, seductive tone of the glamour effect.
“Detective Paxton,” she murmured. “Dreams end, just like this one will. Eventually, we all have to wake up and deal with the reality of the life we’ve been given. We’re nothing to each other. Do you understand? I merely look like the woman you’ve dreamed of and nothing more. You’ll have no memory of asking me to dinner, this dream, or the kiss in the alley.” Tears stung her eyes as she fought to keep her voice steady. “The next time you see me, I will merely be a person to interview and nothing more. I mean nothing to you, Doug Paxton.”
Seconds later, she shot into the air in one swift leap and streaked across the orange sky like a bullet. She prayed for silence and some kind of sign that her attempt to glamour him worked; however, as she fled the dreamscape, his gritty voice echoed.
“You’re wrong about that, sweetheart,” Doug shouted. “Dreams may end, but you and I are in it for eternity.”
Chapter 5
They caught the case not long after coming on duty that night, and while he wasn’t pleased another murder had taken place, he was thrilled to have something to get his mind off the crazy, fucking dream he had. It was the most realistic dream he ever experienced, and if he didn’t know better, he would swear Olivia Hollingsworth had actually been there with him.
The dreams were no longer of an unknown redheaded beauty—now they were most definitely of Olivia. Between that weird hallucination in the alley and the dreams, he was starting to think he was going insane. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought when he tripped outside the ME’s building.
Doug stood over the corpse of the young woman and squelched the ugly head of rage that threatened to consume him. He had been on the job long enough that seeing dead bo
dies shouldn’t affect him, but he would never get used to seeing brutalized women or children.
He squatted to get a closer look as Tom spoke to the college kids who found her. Washington Square Park had gotten cleaner and safer over the past few years, and most of the park had been renovated, but the bathroom facility was still under development. The city labeled it a Comfort Station, but with all the drug use and sex trade that went down in the crumbling brick building, Doug thought comfort was probably the least appropriate word.
Doug looked over his shoulder and through the open door to see Tom interviewing the shaken up kids. They looked like they were going to puke, but he didn’t have pity for them, only for the dead girl on the cracked tile floor. The three of them could go home or go on Facebook and blather about how traumatized they were, but the only place the girl was going was to the medical examiner’s office and then the funeral home.
He turned his attention back to the victim. Her bleached blond, blood-splattered hair covered her face, but the wounds on her throat and arms were similar to the ones sustained by Ronald. Her purse had been found in the corner of the busted-up bathroom and still had her money and credit cards, so it wasn’t a robbery gone bad.
Based on the outfit, she had obviously been out clubbing. One of her heels was broken, and the other had fallen off during the attack. Her black dress was pushed to her waist, and her underwear was around her ankles. She had been raped on top of everything, but this was no run-of-the-mill sex crime.
Doug stood, needing to put distance between himself and the victim, but a mark on her hand caught his eye.
“Hey,” he called to one of the techies from the examiner’s office, “pass me a pair of gloves, would ya?”
He took the gloves from a guy who looked like he had been on the job for about a day and half.
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